[Today I went to a Writing for Wellness class at BMDACC. May as well learn something right. So the teacha put a bunch of road signs on the screen, he said pick a sign and write about it as it pertains to your cancer. So I did I even read it to the class. That was harder then writing. So any way…. the sign I picked was Rough Road.]
Never knew cancer, my cancer involved a mask. Literally and figuratively.
We all have a mask, we all mask a part of ourselves. But I did not know my cancer involved a mask.
Radiation oncology to the thyroid/neck area involves a mask. A special plastic contraption that traps you into the bed of machine. It is custom made to fit from the top of head to the chest.
Its claustrophobia to the Nth degree; whatever that means. The mask is fitted snuggly to my face & clamped down to the sled/bed of the machine.
For 6 weeks, 5 days a wee, 15-20 minutes I wear the mask. Its part of the healing process. But to wear the mask takes a certain amount of guts. A lot of guts nobody told me I had. (I cried when I read this part – hate when I do that)
When the ask is put on there is a few seconds, maybe a minute where I feel if I needed to freak out and scream this would be the time. I’ve not done the freak out and scream thing; yet. Maybe because I take my happy pill before treatment.
The procedure reminds me of water boarding or some covert overt torcher technique. Water boarding minute the water.
I told the tech that this process is like a prisoner of war procedure; I’m gonna get post traumatic stress syndrome. She said she’s heard that before.
Ma ke aloha, until I write again, bumbye.